


Don't Touch Me

by LunaticFrynge (MickeyWay)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickeyWay/pseuds/LunaticFrynge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were few positives to knowing your worst enemy as well as Seth knew his, but this was going to be one of them.</p>
<p>Seth pivoted. Marching back toward Dean, who looked a little alarmed. Seth stopped immediately above where Dean was still sat on the bench, and he smirked. Seth grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair and tugged him off the bench. Dean swore, then went silent, and limp like a rag doll.</p>
<p>Oh yes, this was going to work perfectly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Touch Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a response to a prompt for wrestlingimaginess.tumblr.com! Come and send me more if you liked this one.

Seth seethed as he walked through gorilla toward the dressing rooms. Pace quick and unwavering he nearly slammed into a few people, anyone smart who saw him coming got out of his way. He pushed through the door to the men’s dressing room and nearly punched the wall when Dean wasn’t there. No one was, it was empty. Fuck. He was going to punch Dean when he saw him.

He didn’t have to wait long, he felt a quick slap on his ass, followed by a large hand squeezing him. He groaned.

“I fucking hate you.” Seth spun to face the other man. Dean stuck his tongue out trying to bite back his smirk, but he couldn’t. “Seriously, I wish I could make you disappear.” Dean widened his eyes facetiously, as if to say ‘go on’. “If you ever touch my ass again, no, if you ever touch me again in general, I’m calling security on you.” Dean raised his hands in a gesture of faux-innocence, grinning like a moron the whole time.

“So if I can’t touch you,” He paused, “I shouldn’t do this?” Dean took a step forward. Seth mirrored him, stepping back.

“Stop it.” Seth frowned, wanting to dodge out of the way, but he was blocked by the champion’s wide stance.

Fuck, the champion. That still pissed him off.

Dean repeated the motion, and Seth found there was nowhere else to go. He was backed against the wall, literally. Dean frowned,

“But if I can’t touch you,” He put his arms to each side of Seth, blocking him in. “This would be fine.”

“I’m not playing this game with you, now let me go.” Seth said, quieter than he would have liked. He didn’t like being fenced in. Dean relented, sitting hard on a bench behind him.

“You gotta chill out man, loosen up.” Dean shrugged. Seth grimaced, all thoughts of violence replaced with annoyance. He started to walk away. “Get laid?” Dean suggested. Seth stopped dead in his tracks. His fingers clenched, he was about to tell Dean exactly where he could stuff that shit suggestion, but then-

There were few positives to knowing your worst enemy as well as Seth knew his, but this was going to be one of them.

Seth pivoted. Marching back toward Dean, who looked a little alarmed. Seth stopped immediately above where Dean was still sat on the bench, and he smirked. Seth grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair and tugged him off the bench. Dean swore, then went silent, and limp like a ragdoll.

Oh yes, this was going to work perfectly.

“You- you don’t tell me what to do.” Seth, not so gently, guided Dean to his knees, then yanked at his head so he was looking up. Dean’s eyes were already hazy, pupils blown from just this. “Do you hear me?” Dean nodded. “Good. Stay.” He commanded as he walked to the door to snap the lock closed. He unbuttoned his pants as he walked back, watching Dean watch him. Dean had dropped the belt almost instantly, it was haphazardly balancing between the floor and his leg. His mouth was open a little, eyes tracking Seth’s path back to him hungrily. The first time they’d done this, so long ago, Seth had felt guilty, like Dean was scared to say no or something, but the more he got to know Dean and his facial expressions, the more he could see Dean was a whore for being dominated. He could still see it in the ring sometimes, if Dean’s opponent hit him harder than he expected or grabbed him by the hair, Seth’s experienced eye watched Dean cloud over a little.

Seth stopped over him again. “I didn’t realize you were still a fucking slut for me, so I didn’t prepare and bring lube. For your sake, I’d suggest you do this well.” He went to pull his leather pants down, but paused. He ran a hand into Dean’s hair, not pulling this time, but just stroking his hand through the curls. Dean frowned and shuffled a little on his knees, looking expectantly at Seth’s crotch, and the bulge beginning to form there. Seth pushed on the back of his head a bit to get him to start moving, but then pinned one of Dean’s hands to the floor with heavy boot. “And- no hands. Figure it out.” Dean closed his eyes, not so far gone yet he had no humility; flushed a little pink, he leaned forward and nuzzled Seth’s leatherbound crotch with his nose, breathing his hot breath on it. Seth felt himself grow harder, and Dean’s tentative kitten-lick at the leather just made it worse. He couldn’t imagine the taste, but Dean wasn’t picky with what he put in his mouth, so he just kept at it, alternating between firm licks and just breathing on the fabric. Finally, he got tired of that, and tried to pull the leather down with his teeth.

Seth didn’t want to have to try to explain to Triple H why Dean had a chipped tooth, so he helped him a bit, pushing them down enough he could pull his cock out. Dean waited, a good boy for Seth when he tried. Then, with a gesture from Seth, he went at it. Trying to fit as much of Seth into his mouth as he could, then pulling back when he gagged a bit. Slower this time, he managed to get about halfway before pulling away and sucking just at the head, using his famous tongue on the underside.

“Fuck, did you miss me?” Seth laughed harshly, “I forgot how much of a cockslut you were, god, I could have used someone like you in my months off.” Dean almost started glowing at the compliment. “Don’t let that get to your head, you’re useless for anything other than a fucktoy.” Seth growled. Dean laved his tongue on Seth, sloppy and wet. He pulled back, and fumbled with the hem of his shirt. Seth waited, curious to see what was happening. Dean pulled his gray wifebeater over his head, exposing the chest and stomach that he knew Seth loved. Seth smirked, so this was going to be a game. Seth was already shirtless, so he knew he’d have to step up his dirty talk instead. When Dean tried to go back to sucking him, he pushed him back. “That’s good enough,” He pointed at the bench, “balance yourself on this.” Dean hesitated, then moved, but the hesitation was enough for Seth. He followed Dean up and around the bench to where he could balance well enough on his elbows. Seth reached around Dean and undid his jeans, sliding them down and off his ass, he let them hang loosely around his knees as a silent insult. He kneaded Dean’s ass a bit, and the other man wiggled a bit. Seth pulled back a bit and put as much force as he could into a sharp slap. Dean wailed, the very first noise he’d made since he last spoke. He buried his face in his hands, but didn’t move otherwise. Seth chuckled, hitting him again in the same spot, but lighter. Dean whined, a long, high sound that reverberated in the empty room. “Trying to act all tough on screen.” Seth growled, hitting him again, making sure he didn’t move at all. “Grabbing my ass like you have any sort of power over me.” Again. “But no one knows you’re a disgusting slut. You’re the one bent over a dirty bench about to be fucked by a man who hates you.” Again. Roughly, Seth pulled Dean’s boxers down, he popped two fingers into his mouth, getting them as wet as possible before pushing them into Dean’s entrance. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Seth pushed another finger in, trying to get this stage over with. Dean was panting. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised,” Seth said conversationally, “That you can even be so tight after spending all your time fucking your way to the top.” Seth lined himself up. “Who got use of this ass while I was gone? Who’s dick did you suck to get a good word in to corporate?” Dean was making a low moaning noise, like a malfunctioning machine. “Or,” Seth lowered his voice to a whisper, “Did you just ride Roman’s wave to the top? Did you bounce on his cock like the good little whore you are to keep him from dropping you?” At Dean’s keening noise of want, Seth pushed in. Setting a brutal pace, Seth focused purely on his own release. He didn’t give a fuck if Dean liked it or not, serves him right for how he’s been acting. Soon, Dean’s cries of pleasure or pain fell silent, biting on his wrist to keep from screaming out. Seth was close, fuck, it’d been too long. He’d be damned if he didn’t get a better reaction out of Dean, first, though.

“One day, I’m gonna tell the whole locker room what a slut you are. The whole roster’s going to line up to fuck you stupid. You’re going to be the cumdumpster for everyone, all fucked out and pathetic. There’s not going to be anything you can do about it.” Seth rambled, Dean released his grip on his wrist to cry out as he came, fingers scrambling blindly on the wood bench for something to claw into. Seth kept fucking him through it, coming almost immediately after. He let out a breath and pulled out. Dean sunk to the floor. Seth pulled up his pants and did them up, putting himself back together for a moment. When he refocused on Dean, the man was laying on his back, only his underwear pulled back up, both hands covering his face. It took Seth a moment to realize Dean was crying. Dean pulled his hands away from his face to crack a smile at Seth. Hot tear tracks streaking his face.

“Fuck, I missed you, man.” Dean sniffled, almost laughing. Seth sighed sharply.

“I don’t give a shit about you.” Seth spat, and turned, letting himself out of the locker room.

In the empty hallway, he almost felt guilty.


End file.
